


Waiting

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FFVI GT AU, Final Fantasy VI AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 23:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16862179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Former sidepiece to Solitude while Cidgeon and Cabanela are still on the island and Cabanela is recovering. FFVI/GT au.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Old FFVI/Ghost trick piece. Currently rendered obsolete by [Solitude](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400759)

Cidgeon sat at the desk, making plans for their departure, but his glance regularly strayed to the door. Cabanela roaming was nothing new and often welcome for the periods of peace and quiet. This island however was not safe and Cabanela was not up to his usual self in any sense.

Cidgeon never considered himself one for worry. What-ifs were pointless if they couldn’t be explored. Now he found himself worrying and entertaining many what-ifs. It had been a huge relief when Cabanela finally woke. And a continual, if familiar, lesson in exasperation at his pushing too hard for his limitations.

The door opened, ending one worry only to bring another. Cabanela entered quietly with only a quick glance thrown Cidgeon’s way. His shoulders slumped and he practically dragged himself to the chair by the fire where he sagged into it. His more extravagant entrances were hardly expected yet, but this was unusual even for these past few days. In an odd way it was almost reassuring—it was honest of him.

Concerning nevertheless.

Wordlessly Cidgeon went to fetch and fill the kettle with water and start heating it over the fire. When set up he turned from the fireplace and Cabanela’s arms suddenly shot out and pulled him closer. He blinked at the head now buried in his chest and an old memory rose.

_The young boy sitting on the stool, watching while he worked. Several minutes passed without word and he found himself waiting for that to end any moment now. Best to take advantage of it while he could. A quick glance toward him told him that, while he was engaged in what seemed to be a rare bout of silence, he still kicked his feet back and forth between the stool gaps. Not a sound, but never entirely motionless, that one._

_Cidgeon rose to fetch a file and passed by the stool when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He stopped and turned with a questioning look. The boy slid off the stool and before Cidgeon could quite register what was happening, he had his arms around him and face buried into his torso._

_Cidgeon stared down at the brown hair that was now all he could see of him. What was he to do with him? He still wasn’t quite sure how he wound up with the boy in his care and now that boy was latched onto him._

_He awkwardly patted his back and waited to be released._

Cidgeon looked down at Cabanela’s hair. More grey in there than the initial infusions brought. How much was a product of time and how much was a product of further experiments and other torments, he wondered.

He patted his back before letting his hand rest there. He hadn’t noticed by sight, but now he could feel the slight tremble. What was he to do with him? He nearly died at least once, and likely more with everything they put him through. Cabanela wasn’t supposed to die before him.

And what prompted this? The first time hadn’t exactly yielded an answer either. Only over dinner did Cabanela, bright eyed, pipe up, “I’m happy you’re here, professor!” before polishing off the rest of his food and springing away to whatever it was he planned that evening before bed. Baffling in all honesty.

As for present day, there were any number of causes, Cidgeon supposed. Cabanela had certainly been… moodier in his own way since waking, and Cidgeon could hardly blame him in this new dreary world of theirs with no knowledge of the rest outside this small island, and he knew his current limitations bothered him to no end.

His behaviour was still downright unsettling coming from Cabanela.

Cabanela pulled back with a slight sigh and leaned back into the chair. A quick survey of his face told Cidgeon he looked about the same as always these days—too tired, too thin, and no hints as to whatever was currently running through that mind of his.

He returned to his initial task, fetching a mug, blending together the few ingredients for a ‘tea’ of sorts, and letting it seep. When finished he passed the mug to Cabanela.

“I made some adjustments.”

Cabanela took a sip and Cidgeon caught the slight grimace.

“It’s better than the last one,” Cabanela said.

“Hmph, no need to spare my pride.”

“It’s not teeerrible. And it’s hot.”

Cabanela drank the rest and Cidgeon took the mug back to clean it out.

Cabanela’s voice came oddly distant and quiet. “You stayed…”

“Hardly going to let 31 years go to waste, am I?”

A soft sound that was almost a chuckle. “And you never diiid like waste. It might not have been me…”

“Yeah? Well I only know one fool to pull those stunts.”

Cabanela’s mouth twitched, but he continued to stare into the fire. “We will find them.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Cabanela abruptly rose. “I’ll make dinner toniiight.”

Cidgeon nodded as Cabanela went to prepare the fish. Good. Waiting around did the boy no favours. He could only hope Cabanela would be fit enough to make the trip across the ocean, wherever it might take them, soon.


End file.
